Paper Tongues
by shintas1st
Summary: Last time they were in this position he'd been pinned to the floor of sublevel fifty-two.


**Disclaimer**: I don't own Young Justice or anything related to anything ever. Fan work, no profit made from this, yadda yadda yadda.

A quick little thing for the pairing ConnerxKaldur (Yes, in that order. Shut up Pan, Conner will not smash him to pieces with his super thrusts. Thanks for helping me write this though. C8)

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

He'd felt the powerful body atop his before except now there was no anger, no pain sprouting from vicious blows to the sides of his head. Kaldur fought the urge to move and smiled serenely, observing Cons' uncertainty as the boy trailed cautious fingers down his chest. It was almost endearing, would have been with how gentle the super clone was being, if he hadn't looked so frightened. He still bore marks from the last time they'd tried anything close to this, and Con seemed hard pressed to forget the barely visible bruising on the older teens' arms, even if they were half hidden by tattoos.

A tentative hand landed on Cons' knee and the amphibious boy wasn't surprised in the least when he jerked at the contact. He was spooked and was, as much as he probably didn't want to admit it, out of his element. Hell, they both were, but the Atlantean had much more experience when it came to human interaction. Black brows furrowed deeply, the clone's expression nothing short of inquisitive when the hand on his knee moved higher by only a couple inches, webbed fingers spreading to grip at the snug fitting jeans, before returning to Kaldurs' lower belly.

"It's okay to say what you want to do, y'know. I won't be offended." A long, almost awkward silence followed the words, prompting Superboy to shift and retreat. Kaldur found it amazing that, for someone who launched himself headlong at creatures five times his size with zero hesitation, Conner shrank back so easily in the face of intimacy. Before he could fully withdraw from his perch on Kals' hips he was stopped by that same hand, though it was more so the contact that kept him there than the grip itself. "Conner?"

"I...I don't know." The leg in Kaldurs' possession shifted again. Despite the look Con was giving him he couldn't help but admire the solid muscles working under his fingers, threatening to tug loose.

With a quirk of his brow he silently withdrew his hand. Only his fingertips brushed against the rough denim encasing the muscled thigh, dragging slowly upward in suggestion. The boy of steel had frozen, nearly becoming his namesake when he realized where the darker teens' hand was headed. Slim digits hooked his belt loops, hauling him forward, and Conner would have been lying if he said he'd been expecting the quick, fluid roll of hips against his own.

He wanted to run. God he wanted to flee so badly, sure that if they were any closer, if he somehow ended up flush against the squirming body beneath him that they'd end up fighting all over again. How could Kaldur stand to be so collected all the time? He knew Con was nervous about feelings in general, about accidentally hurting him, but he pressed anyways. Pinned as he was beneath his weight he seemed surprisingly at ease, the fact of which Conner felt a slight twinge of jealousy at.

"I don't know what I want, okay?" The words were dropped more than spoken, a frustrated sigh following soon after as he practically deflated. Tight fists crushed the blankets at Kaldurs' sides and he could see the strain in the young mans' arms as he fought not to let himself stoop those last few inches to close the distance between them. He wasn't one to press his luck too often, but damn if the thought of having the clone closer wasn't enticing enough to make him try. An attempted kiss only earned a gasp and they were back to square one with Conner at his side instead of straddling his hips.

"Sorry."

Only mildly put off, Kaldur coughed, making a sad attempt to dispel what he knew was an oncoming wave of stifling tension. "You don't have to say sorry." He leaned up and placed a kiss on Con's cheek, swallowing the lump in his throat as a growl began to build up in the back of Conner's. "It's okay, I can wait. We're going at your pace," Kaldur muttered. And for a moment nothing was said. They just stared at each other, sea green eyes meeting cool blues. Kal flinched uncomfortably when Conner suddenly shifted, raising his hand.

He expected to be hit or for the awkward clone to push him away, but it didn't happen. Instead, he felt the calloused pad of Con's thumb brush against a particularly painful bruise on his arm. Several times Kent parted his lips to say something, only to fail in the end. He looked away, a light flush accompanying the troubled look on his face. The guy was an open book half the time, body language more than making up for his lack of words. With a shake of his head he abandoned the last of the contact they'd share for the evening in favor of heading for the door. Kaldur barely repressed his sigh, remembering at the last moment the others' excellent hearing.

He hadn't even untucked his shirt.


End file.
